


Hyperopia

by Mntsnflrs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Fear of Death, Kind of fantasy, M/M, but also!! pickled eggs, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: If you knew love was destined to kill you, would you risk it? Would you let yourself die to allow yourself to live?
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 83
Kudos: 427





	Hyperopia

**Author's Note:**

> Hyperopia: a condition in which visual images come to a focus behind the retina of the eye and vision is better for distant than for near objects.

It’s the second child. Always the second child.

Doyoung knew from the moment he could comprehend words that he was a mistake, that he shouldn’t have been born. Not to say that he was unloved – far from it. His parents doted upon him, and his elder brother, instead of jealousy, treated him with the same gentle guidance as their mother.

It was their grandfather that first said it openly, sat at the dining table on Doyoung’s fourth birthday, waiting for the candles to be blown out.

“Minnie,” he said to his daughter, “You shouldn’t have done this to him.”

She blushed a deep pink, settling one hand over Doyoung’s shoulder and the other on his brother. “Dad, now isn’t the time or the place.”

“You’ve doomed your own son.”

Wax dripped from the candles onto the icing of the cake, melting away slowly as the family stood, waiting.

“Grandpa,” Doyoung asked, “What do you mean?”

“It’s always the second child,” his grandfather murmured. “Doyoung, you should never have been born.”

“That’s enough!” Doyoung’s father snapped. His hands went to his wife’s shoulder, the other clenched at his side. They were all linked by hands now, the mother, the father, the son and the son. The four of them, celebrating Doyoung’s forth birthday. It was then, as the candles stuttered out, mere stumps of wax, that Doyoung realised how little of his mother’s family were there. There was his grandfather, his mother’s cousin and her young son, and no one else. He’d never known his grandmother, and his own mother was an only child. So was her cousin. So was her cousin’s son. 

“Grandpa,” Doyoung asked, slower this time, “What happened to Grandma?”

“What happens to all second children. What will happen to you too, sooner rather than later.”

-

The ambiguity of the answer terrified him more than harsh truth could have. Now he was scared to ask more, to know more, but even more scared of the teary silence of his parents when he, with all of the frustration in his body, demanded to understand.

“Don’t worry about it,” his brother said that evening, reading Doyoung a story before bed. It was something about a princess locked in a tower, but it wasn’t the Rapunzel Doyoung was used to. No, his brother liked the original myths and folk tales, and this princess was locked in her tower so that her beauty would remain unmarred by the plague ravaging her kingdom. This princess was going to die by the end of the story, locked somewhere cold and alone for the benefits of superficial aestheticism at the whim of those more powerful than her. Doyoung didn’t realise this until he reread the book of tales as a teenager, but by then he was already disillusioned, so the knowledge didn’t break his heart. Instead he thought of his brother, only a handful of years older, but decades wiser, kinder, skimming over the details of the grizzly myth so that Doyoung would sleep well. Skipping over the harsh truth so that Doyoung wouldn’t worry about the girl destined to die young and beautiful. “Try not to think about it, okay? Dad would tell us now if it were something important, so maybe we should just wait.”

“Until when?”

“Until we’re old enough to know.”

It was frustrating at the time, but with hindsight things become so much clearer. The misty film of childhood eyes is cleared, and Doyoung sees his elder brother as the nine-year-old he was, fearful for his sibling and just as unknowing as Doyoung. They were both children, after all. Just little kids that knew nothing past themselves and their family, and as a child you’re biologically programmed to trust your parents, the people that feed you, care for you. You trust implicitly in the way that only children can, and because of that, when your mother strokes your hair and says that she’ll tell you when you’re older, that you have nothing to worry about, that you’re loved and protected and always will be, you believe her.

-

He was thirteen years old when he found himself in his first relationship. The girl was called Jisoo, also eleven, and her hair was long, always in twin plaits down her back. she held hands with Doyoung at lunch and giggled whenever he said anything. He didn’t know much about relationships, but from what he’d seen of his parents, he assumed that this was the entirety of it. As soon as their hands unlinked, he went on with his day, and they remained in pause until they met again for the following lunch to resume laughing and exchanging the fruits their mothers had packed. 

It was his cousin, fifteen now, just knowledgeable enough to help, but just unaware enough to hurt. He nudged Doyoung’s shoulder on the walk home from school, kicking a pinecone along the road as he smirked. “Careful dude.”

“With what?”

“You and Jisoo. You seem to like her a lot.”

He did. They both enjoyed reading, exercise, singing and dance. That was as much as he knew, but for his age, that was enough. “I do like her.”

“Better slow down before you fall in love.”

Doyoung frowned. “I don’t get it.”

His cousin shrugged, pursing his lips. “I’m just saying, you know? You’re young, but you’re still the second child. Once you’re in love it’s only a matter of time before it happens.”

“What happens?”

The pinecone rolled onto the road, too close to the wheels of oncoming cars for his cousin to kick anymore. The sky above them was blue and cloudless, and the painfully bright afternoon sun was reflected in his cousin’s eyes. “Doyoung, haven’t your parents told you?”

He felt apprehension, cold and sharp, climb its way up his spine. “Told me what?”

“There’s a reason our family is so small. There’s… we don’t have more than one kid, Doyoung, ever. Grandma was meant to be the last second child.”

“But _why?”_

“Because if the second child falls in love, they die.”

-

It would have been a difficult revelation for anyone, never mind a thirteen-year-old boy who already had too much attitude and too many questions.  
He barged into his house, ready to scream, cry, demand answers. Ready to rip his own hair out.

He felt ready to explode, until he saw his mother at the stove, cooking a broth for their dinner. She smiled when she saw that Doyoung was home, unaware of his turmoil. “Hi sweetheart, how was school? Your brother is in his room, he’s had a bad day so I’m making his favourite for dinner. You can pick the dessert if you’d like.”

She was so happy to see him, just as she was every day. His mother, who grew up an only child, without a mother of her own, raised only by her father and her aunt’s family. His mother, who loved him so dearly. Who kissed him before bed every night, and held him when his dreams scared him, when cuts welled with blood and bruises littered his pale skin, when his brother pushed too hard, when the world felt too big for one boy.

Instead of the shouting he’d expected, the harsh words and accusing tone, he felt his eyes begin to well. “Mom?”

She hums, stirring the pot. “Yes?”

“Am I going to die?”

It would have been a relief if she’d scoffed. If she’d laughed at him, or turned, confused at the question. She was the logical one, always nagging her husband to pull his head out of the clouds. Why didn’t she say he was being ridiculous? Why didn’t she shake her head? Why didn’t she laugh? 

“Doyoung, who said that to you?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, lips numb. “Will you answer me?”

“Doyoung… everyone dies eventually, honey.”

“Eventually. Everyone dies eventually. Am I going to die early?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Why am I here?” he asked, voice raising. Somewhere on the floor above, floorboard creaked. Either his father or brother had heard and were coming down, coming to listen or intervene or dismiss, and he needed answers before that. “Why was I born if you’re just going to let me die?”

“You’re my _baby_ Doyoung!” she shouted, throwing the wooden spoon into the stew so hard that the burning liquid splatters against the wall and her cheek, reddening the skin. “You weren’t born to die, you were born to live, just like everyone else!”

“To live without love?”

“To live how you want, to do whatever makes you happy, to exist in a way that makes you smile. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. We’re not going to let a cruel joke dictate our family, how we live, or how I raise my children!”

“Isn’t it selfish?” he asked, already hardening his shell, already building up his walls. “To make me live without love? I think it’s cruel.”

She put her hands to her face and turned the other way, and after a moment her shoulders begun to shake.

Doyoung picked up his bag from where he’d left it on the couch, passed his pale, confused brother, and walked out of the door, letting his feet carry him through the well-known streets, trusting his instincts to take him to Johnny’s house, where he knows he can cry without being judged, without probing questions, without having to face what it is that’s broken his heart.

-

He forgave his parents easily once they sat down and explained everything to him. After all, his mother was a logical woman. Why would she let a rumour, a set of bad circumstances, a joke, dictate her life and the family she could have? It didn’t make sense, and phrased like that, Doyoung could see how ludicrous it sounded.  
When he asked what had happened to his grandmother, his mother shook her head, staring at the ceiling before looking back to him, meeting his gaze straight on. “She wasn’t killed by a family curse, Doyoung, she tripped on the stairs while she was carrying laundry. She hit her head. It was a horrible accident, and nothing else. There isn’t a curse causing death; it’s just how our family have dealt with tragedies; it’s how they cope. My father found it easier to blame fate than to face up to the fact that my mother probably wasn’t paying attention to her feet. I understand his reasoning, but I won’t let it continue. You’re not destined to die, Doyoung, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. His mother hugged him tightly, murmured love into his hair, and calmed the uneven rhythm of his fearful heart.

But still.

He broke up with Jisoo the following day, just in case. They hadn’t even shared a kiss.

-

He started to develop something close to paranoia, a wary, critical way of looking at the world that masked his fear. He looked both ways twice before crossing any roads. He brought hand sanitiser with him whenever he went into public, and always made sure his wallet was where he remembered it last being. He was never late to class, never strayed from the timetable set by his teachers. Homework was handed in on time, handwriting was neat, between the lines, and relationships were casual at best, cold at worst. 

A particularly cruel girl remarked that Doyoung was frigid when they were seventeen, expecting him to react, waiting with a smile for the exterior to crack.

He nodded. “You’re right.”

She was beautiful, smart, and incredibly funny to her classmates. If Doyoung had said yes when she asked him out on a study date, he might have fallen for her. If he had, what would have happened then? Maybe nothing. Maybe dinner and a movie and a hesitant kiss, the first of many. Maybe friendship. Maybe sparks and flames and something burning scarily in Doyoung’s chest, something that might have hurt him, hurt her, hurt everyone he cares about. 

Better to be frigid.

Better to not know than to find out.

-

  
He was eighteen when he finally decided to ask his grandfather what had happened to his grandmother. It was clear that his mother hated talking about it, that it was too painful, something raw and undisturbed for too long to go opening old wounds, but Doyoung wanted answers. He wanted to know why exactly he was letting himself live so closed away.

“We used to laugh about it,” his grandfather told him over dinner one hot summer evening. They were sat outside together, watching birds and listening to the distant sound of children laughing. “Soohyeon told me a couple of months after we met. We were drunk off cheap wine, sat for a picnic in a public park, and when she said her family was cursed, we both laughed. Looking back it was probably callous, but we were young and silly, infatuated and drunk. She said that the second child always seems to die once they’d fallen in love, and when I asked why, she just shrugged and said that someone in the family must have broken the heart of someone powerful a long time ago. We laughed again and drunk more. Her aunt remarried a couple of years later and passed away during childbirth, and we looked at each other, but we couldn’t say anything. We were already married. Soohyeon was already pregnant with your mother. We were ready to have a family – a big one. We weren’t going to let a terrible tragedy stop us from enjoying our lives together.”

Doyoung swallowed a mouthful of his lukewarm tea. “And then she died.”

“She was a dancer; did you know that? A beautiful, beautiful dancer. She never had a foot out of place, not when she was pregnant and couldn’t see her feet, not when she was drunk, not when she was so exhausted that she couldn’t see anything. She was graceful and intentional and never anything else. I never saw her so much as trip in all the years I’d known her, but then months after Minnie was born, she fell to her death on the stairs of her home – the stairs _I_ built for us. For our family. The most unlikely way for her to die, but it happened anyway.”

“And you think it was the curse?”

“I don’t know what it was Doyoung, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that you shouldn’t laugh at things you don’t understand. You’re a logical boy, level-headed and mature in a way I never was, in a way your grandmother would have adored to see. You can’t know what will happen, so just be careful.”

“I will,” Doyoung said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. How must it have felt to raise his mother alone, knowing that only years earlier he’d been laughing at what could have caused the death of his wife? How could it feel to know that something beyond human comprehension, something beyond logic was the cause of so much sadness? “I promise.”

-

Doyoung wouldn’t have his first kiss until five years later, too scared of falling in love to even consider the prospect of letting someone close enough to touch. 

-

It came up during a truth or dare. He only had one year left of college, and he’d been almost certain that he could graduate without his friends realising that his avoidance of relationships was due to more than just a strict work ethic.

“Doyoung, truth or dare?” Yuta asked over his beer.

“Truth,” Doyoung said easily. Taeyong was still retching from the dare of swallowing a pickled egg without chewing, and no kind of honesty was worth that kind of pain.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

He wanted to lie, but Yuta was shrewd enough to smell a lie from miles away. Lying would result in a picked egg. “I haven’t.”

Taeil choked on his drink, and Doyoung watched with abstract horror as lemonade dripped out of his nose. 

Yuta, who eventually picked his jaw off the floor, then asked, “Okay, so… first kiss?”

The party was crowded enough that most of the strangers surrounding their small circle wouldn’t hear, but Doyoung was still seriously starting to consider the egg as a viable option.

Taeyong retched again.

“I haven’t,” Doyoung admitted. “I’ve never been kissed.”

“You’re twenty-three years old.”

“Thanks for the reminder Yuta, but I’m very aware of my age. Funnily enough, I’ve attended all of my birthdays.”

After a moment, Yuta relented. He shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “It’s a shame, dude. With a face like yours you could have been slutting it up for years now. Wanna make out?”

“I’d rather choke on my own tongue.”

“Mean.”

“Ugly.”

“Okay!” Taeil said loudly. He kicked Ten, who had been so focused on his messaging that he hadn’t been paying attention to the circle, thankfully. Whatever god was out there had provided Doyoung at least one small mercy. “Ten, truth or dare?”

Ten glanced up from his phone. “Dare.”

Yuta pointed to Doyoung. “Make out with Doyoung. Now.”

Ten scowled. “Gross, no. We live together, you can’t make us cross that incestuous boundary.”

“Are you accepting the penalty of the egg?”

“No, just find me someone else to kiss.”

Doyoung spied Johnny across the room, laughing at something his friend is saying, head back and smile bright it could power a solar panel. “Kiss Johnny.”

Ten raised an eyebrow above his dark fringe. “Johnny? Isn’t he straight?”

“Is anyone straight when it comes to you?”

“I mean, very rarely, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“I’ve known him since we were seven, and I can confirm from numerous times of walking into his room to find him masturbating to gay porn that he isn’t straight. At the very least he’s open to suggestions.”

“Oh,” Ten said, cocking his head. “Okay then. Doyoung, you come too.”

He frowned. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t kissing. I’m not more likely to join in if Johnny is involved.”

“No, I need you to distract Jaehyun. They’ll never stop giggling if we don’t corner them both.”

Yuta nodded sagely. “They have a really bad sense of humour when they’re both drunk. All the time, actually, it just gets infinitely worse when there’s beer.”

“But – I don’t know Jaehyun.”

“He transferred from California not long ago, and you’re too reclusive to have met him at any of our other parties, that’s not his fault,” Taeyong said, finally able to speak past the egg-shaped lump in his throat. “He’s nice. Just make small talk while Ten sticks his tongue in Johnny’s mouth for a couple of minutes.”

So Doyoung allowed himself to be hauled off the floor by Ten, dragged through the swaying bodies to the corner where Johnny and Jaehyun were laughing, and when Ten turned to Johnny with intent in his gaze and a pretty, seductive smile curling the corner of his lips, Doyoung turned to Jaehyun.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m here to distract you so that Ten can seduce Johnny.”

“That won’t take much effort on his part,” Jaehyun replied, voice warm. Up close he was more handsome than Doyoung had expected. Broad shouldered and big eyed, with deep set dimples and chestnut hair just on the right side of being unkempt. Suddenly Doyoung felt out of place, too bony and awkward to be talking to someone as… comfortable as Jaehyun. “So what’s your name?”

“Oh.” His attention snapped back to the conversation and his complete lack of manners. “Sorry. I’m Doyoung.”

“Ah. Taeil’s lit major friend?”

“That’s me.”

Jaehyun offered a hand to shake. “Well, I’m Jaehyun. Transfer student from California, Johnny’s psychology major friend. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So… do you want to go somewhere more private?”

Doyoung was taken aback. First at how forward Jaehyun was, and then at the fact that he sounded genuine. He was interested in Doyoung. “That wasn’t very smooth. In fact, it wasn’t even vaguely flirtatious.”

Jaehyun’s smile deepened until his eyes were sparkling crescents. “Most of the time I try to lure people in with my beauty so that they don’t notice my lack of game.”

“Was that a joke?”

“Kind of.”

“It was bad.”

Jaehyun shrugged, still smiling. “What do bad jokes matter when you look like me?”

The confidence, not bordering on cockiness so much as diving into it, was oddly amusing. For some reason Doyoung could tell it was fake. Maybe it was the way Jaehyun’s smile was slightly self-deprecating, or the way he fiddled with the ring on his thumb nervously. He was more cute than cocky, more endearing than abrasive. “I don’t know,” Doyoung eventually settled on, “I don’t look like you so I wouldn’t know.”

“But you look like you. Surely that’s enough.”

He found himself laughing, surprisingly, and more surprisingly still was the way that Jaehyun’s smile grew at the sound.

“You have a great smile. A great laugh.”

Doyoung put a hand over his mouth and tried to calm himself back into his usual stoicism. It must have been the alcohol making his cheeks heat and his lips twitch. “Will you stop being so forward?”

“It depends. Will you go for lunch with me tomorrow?”

“You’ll be hungover.”

“So will you. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Why?” Doyoung asked, the question more sobering once it was voiced aloud. It was genuine. Why me? What could Doyoung possibly have to offer someone like Jaehyun?

Jaehyun’s smile dimmed, like already, after a matter of minutes, maybe less… like he already knew Doyoung well enough to see the thoughts behind his eyes. “Because I think you’re attractive and I still don’t know that many people here. I’d like to make more friends.”

“Friends?”

Jaehyun shrugged. “No pressure. Friends, if that’s what you want. If not… maybe something else. If nothing else, then just lunch. It can just be lunch.”

“Hungover lunch.”

“Just two bros and a hungover meal. What could be better?”

It must have been the alcohol. After twenty-three years of rebuffing advances, this pathetic attempt at flirting couldn’t be what was making Doyoung’s heart stutter. Surely not. “Fine. Just lunch.”

Jaehyun’s smile deepened again, and this time he stopped fiddling with his ring. “Great. That’s great. Do you… want to go somewhere private now?”  
Doyoung laughed. Loudly, and embarrassingly, and it was almost worth the self-consciousness for the way Jaehyun laughed too. “You’re incorrigible.”

“What do you mean? I just want us to compare natal charts. I need to see if we’re compatible before I start planning our wedding.”

“Wedding? Who says anything about a wedding?”

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight, Doyoung?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Wow. You’re not a romantic then, I take it.”

“Not at all, no.”

Jaehyun nodded, eying Doyoung critically. “Your moon must be in Gemini.”

Doyoung spluttered. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Come sit outside with me and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re so _persistent.”_

“I’m driven. I want to get to know you.”

“That’s what lunch tomorrow is for!”

Jaehyun shrugged. “What is this moment for, then? The stars are out, you look gorgeous, and I want to compare your eyes to the night sky and see for myself which I prefer, though I kind of already know it’s your eyes. Do you have somewhere you’d prefer to be? I won’t be offended if you do.”  
  
But he didn’t. It was scary, but he didn’t have somewhere he’d rather be. Not playing games with his friends, not watching Ten sneak his hands into Johnny’s back pockets, not sat in his room writing a comparative essay, not watching films or laughing at Taeyong or eating his favourite foods or reading his favourite book –

He wasn’t spontaneous. 

He didn’t trust romance, or lust, or infatuation. He didn’t trust himself or Jaehyun, or the crumbling edge of the precipice he was stood on. He could fall at any moment, and it should have been scaring him enough to send him scrambling backwards, but Jaehyun’s smile was making him want to stumble forwards, no matter the fear of the drop. 

_Don’t you believe in love at first sight?_

He’d never had a reason to.

Jaehyun held out a hand. “The stars await us, Doyoung. Are you coming?”

He slipped his hand into Jaehyun’s before he could think about it enough to stop himself. He let himself be dragged back through the crowd, away from Yuta’s wide, joyous eyes, away from Johnny and Ten, away from everyone. They ended up on the roof of the building, having slipped through a fire escape and climbed high enough that the loud voices had dimmed to a bass hum. 

Jaehyun settled himself against a low wall and gestured for Doyoung to do the same, and after a couple of minutes of silence, he nodded. “Your eyes.”

“What?”

“I definitely prefer your eyes.”

Doyoung stared at Jaehyun mutely. They’d met purely by chance and had known each other for a handful of minutes. Why did it feel like this? Like _more?_ “Jaehyun, if you knew love was going to kill you, would you still do it?”

“Do what? Love?”

“Yes.”

“Of course I would. What’s the point of living without love?”

“But… if you knew it was going to cause your death, you’re saying you wouldn’t be scared?”

Jaehyun frowned. “I’d probably be scared, yeah. That sounds like a terrifying scenario, but I guess the way I see it is that we all have to die at some point, right? Some sooner than others. If I have to die sooner, then so be it. I’m not going to waste the time I do have worrying about something I can’t change.”

“But you could change it.”

Jaehyun’s eyes softened. “You can’t stop yourself from loving, no matter how badly you want to.”

“You can.”

“Love at first sight, Doyoung, remember? Maybe you haven’t met the right person to fall for yet.”

“I don’t want to fall,” Doyoung whispered. “I don’t want to die.”

Jaehyun linked their hands against the cold concrete of the roof, his palm warm and soft, a spark of contact that Doyoung felt everywhere. “Love can’t kill you, Doyoung.”

“How can you know?”

“Go for dinner with me tomorrow and I’ll tell you.”

He felt himself smile despite his shuddering breaths. “I thought we were going for lunch.”

“I want to go for dinner with you too. If lunch is two bros having a hangover meal, I want dinner to be a date. I want to take you out. Will you let me?”

He didn’t let himself think about his answer. “Yes.”

Jaehyun’s smile was blinding. “Great. Now, what’s your rising sign? That’s very important.”

-

Lunch became a routine. So did dinner.

Jaehyun kissed him one evening while he still had half of a mouthful of chewed hotdog between his teeth, and then they both spent the rest of the night laughing at the mustard between their lips. Doyoung felt like he was being tugged between the sky and the cold, hard ground; one minute he was flying, the next he was hurtling. 

Ten gave him a smug smile one morning, green tea between his palms as he skipped his morning class. “You’re welcome.”

Doyoung frowned. “For what? Burdening me with your presence for another two hours?”

“For introducing you to Jaehyun. For giving you the opportunity.”

“The opportunity to what?”

“To love him.”

He was twenty-three years old, and as it turned out, still scared of his own feelings. “I don’t love him.”

“Not yet. But you will.”

He swallowed down his discomfort. “How the hell could you know that?”

Ten just smiled in that annoying way he did. “I know you. I know Jaehyun. Some things are just meant to be.”

Doyoung scoffed. “Don’t tell me you believe in love at first sight too, Ten.”

“I’m far too pragmatic for that, darling. I believe in fate.”

“Fate?”

Ten leant over and pressed a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek. “Sometimes it takes an outside influence to make you realise that you’re wasting your life thinking about the future when you should be enjoying the present. How often have you laughed since you met Jaehyun? How often have you shouted and cried and smiled? The ice around your heart is melting.”

The thought of it was sobering. Terrifying.

He needed to see Jaehyun, to speak to him, to call things off. Fuck. What was he _doing?_

He left Ten in the kitchen, already calling Jaehyun’s mobile as he started walking towards campus. 

Jaehyun picked up on the third ring, voice as warm as ever. As warm and welcoming as he always was with Doyoung. “Hey. You okay?”

“Can I see you? Now?” Doyoung asked, legs already starting to cramp up because of his speed. He’d be better off running, but he didn’t want to pant, for Jaehyun to hear his unsteady breathing and start worrying.

“Sure,” Jaehyun agreed easily. “I’m on the third floor of the library with a couple of friends, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Great. I’ll be ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Don’t you have to wait for a bus?”

“I thought I’d walk it today,” Doyoung replied, sick to his stomach as he stopped at the roadside, checking both ways twice before crossing. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun paused. “Take care.”

“You too.” Doyoung hung up and begun to sprint. 

-

The wind was taken from his sails as soon as he saw Jaehyun sat laughing at a table with two of his friends, smiling so happily in a soft expression that only deepened when he saw Doyoung approach.

“Wow. You really were just ten minutes.” He gestured back to his companions. “Doyoung, this is Mingyu and Jungkook. Guys, this is Doyoung.”

Doyoung sat heavily in the spare seat and waved, still too out of breath to do anything other than wheeze a little. He looked at Mingyu, at Jungkook, and to begin with could see exactly why Jaehyun was friends with them – the three boys were one in the same. Tall, built, inexplicably handsome – and _shy._ Mingyu just giggled at Doyoung, high pitched and at odds with his previously stern appearance, while Jungkook waved hesitantly with his fingertips swallowed by his long sleeves.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Doyoung eventually managed to say. “I can see why you’re friends with Jaehyun.”

“Because we’re all hot?” Mingyu asked, smile melting into a smirk.

Doyoung’s mouth thinned. “Because you’re all dumbasses. You’re not very good at disguising it.”

Jaehyun glowed, turning to Mingyu with a besotted smile. “I told you he’s blunt.”

Jungkook sighed, offering Doyoung what must have been an attempt at friendliness that came closer to outright fear. “Ignore Mingyu, he’s in love with an ice cube lit major and thinks everyone else is boring in comparison. He’s not trying to be rude, he’s just stupid.”

“Oh,” Doyoung replied, somewhat surprised. Mingyu blushed again, smirk falling back into a goofy smile that was terribly endearing. “I’m a lit major.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened. “You are? Do you know Wonwoo? Jeon Wonwoo?”

Doyoung did know Wonwoo. Wonwoo was tall, graceful, beautiful in a sharp, aching way. He kept to himself most of the time, but when he did speak it was either cutting or hilarious. They’d worked together on a couple of projects, and Doyoung had always thought that if he fell for anyone, it would be someone like Wonwoo, someone just as likely to check both ways twice before crossing as Doyoung would. “I know Wonwoo. He’s nice.”

Mingyu sighed. “He’s the best.”

Doyoung looked back to a fond Jaehyun. “I’ll be honest, I expected all of your friends to be straight fraternity dudes.”

“Most of them look like that, but deep down we’re all a little gay,” Mingyu said before Jaehyun could reply. “Other than Yugyeom, Bam, and Seokmin, who I’m sure you’ll meet another time – they’re doing a presentation together today along with Minghao, who’s bi like me and Jae. Kookie is gay.”

“Okay,” Doyoung said, uncertain. “Are you going to tell me your natal charts now too? Is this what all of you guys do for fun? Demand no secrecy and bare all to strangers?”

“You can see me naked if you want to,” Mingyu said, horrifyingly earnest.

Jaehyun scowled. “No Gyu, he doesn’t want to see you naked. Save it for someone interested, okay?”

“Oh shit, sorry dude. I forgot you’d called dibs.”

“I’m my own person,” Doyoung snapped. “If anyone is calling dibs on me it’s _me.”_

“Okay, time for some privacy,” Jaehyun said, smacking the table with both hands. “Guys, can you go for a walk or something?”

“Sure,” Jungkook said, hauling Mingyu out of his chair without waiting for his friend to agree. “Text if you want anything while we’re out.” They packed their things quickly and left with a small wave, and then Doyoung was alone with Jaehyun and his fears.

“So? What’s going on?” Jaehyun asked. His eyes had mellowed to a warm brown, curious and kind. 

He didn’t know where to start, or where to finish. “It’s… bad luck in my family to have two children.”

Jaehyun’s brows rose. “I thought you were the youngest of two?”

“I am.” Doyoung’s smile felt brittle, but he forced it anyway. “I was unplanned.”

“You don’t seem unlucky to me.”

_Yet._

It feels unsaid, like Doyoung needs to tell Jaehyun, _my family might be cursed._ Like he’s hiding away a dark secret.

But is he? He hasn’t believed that since he was a child. What kind of proof did he have for a family curse – the death of his grandmother some fifty years ago? That was nothing. It sounded ridiculous. No wonder his mother hadn’t wanted to tell him; it was stupid. Unbelievable. Jaehyun would listen to Doyoung because he’s kind, but he’d come away from the conversation thinking Doyoung was crazy. After all, they’d been together almost half a year, and nothing had happened. Why was the fear returning now? After so long, why now? Why was he thinking about dying now that he finally knew what it felt like to be alive?

“Doyoung, are you okay?” Jaehyun asked. He pushed his laptop away and pulled Doyoung’s chair close. “Babe, you’ve got that freaky look again. Are you worrying about something?”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, trying to brush off his irrationality. His parents had met Jaehyun, adored him – if they were worried, they would have said something. Someone would have done something. “I’m just being stupid.”

Jaehyun hummed. “It’s factually impossible for Kim Doyoung to be stupid. He can be silly if he so desires, but I’m afraid that stupid just isn’t an option.”

He felt himself smile and pressed his face against Jaehyun’s neck, heartbeat fluttering back to its usual speedy pace around Jaehyun. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jaehyun pressed a kiss to his hair. “You’re always welcome.”

-

That weekend he went home to visit, reassured by the presence of his parents, even if his brother was somewhere in Seoul being hot and famous. It was just nice to be somewhere familiar, surrounded by familiarity and people that had always known him. 

“Visit your grandfather tomorrow, wont you Doyoung?” his mother asked on the Friday evening, passing him a bowl of stew. She forgot things easily now, which was beginning to worry her husband and sons. Stew was never Doyoung’s favourite, but she made it for him every time he came home. “I think he’s been missing you, honey.”

“I’ll go over in the morning,” he promised, taking the offered stew. “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome Doie,” she said with a bright smile. “I know you love your stew!”

-

“You’re in love,” his grandfather said as he opened the door. “I can see it in your eyes. You look like your mother, like Soohyeon.”

He swallowed. “I think I am.”

His grandfather smiled, small and vulnerable, aged and infinitely tired. “Come and sit down, Doyoung. We can have a cup of tea.”

So they did. They drank in silence and sat staring at anything other than each other. Doyoung hated how fragile his grandfather looked now, how old he was. He hated thinking about the amount of time he might have left. 

“I have a heart murmur,” his grandfather said suddenly. “Your mother is ill too. If there’s something the past couple of years have taught me, it’s that we all die when our time comes. We can’t control that. I might outlive my own daughter, but I might not. That isn’t up to me to decide, and if one of us is taken, well, that’s just a part of living. Dealing with death, no matter how hard, is a big part of living.”

“What are you saying, Grandpa?”

“I’m saying that you should be happy, Doyoung. Enjoy it while you can.” His grandfather met his gaze. “Looking back now, if I could never meet Soohyeon, if I could fall in love with someone else and have the big family I’ve always wanted, I wouldn’t take that chance. I love Soohyeon with all of my heart, and I wouldn’t trade the time we had for anything. The family she gave me – you’re my reason for smiling. Your mother brought me endless joy as she was growing up, and now, as a mother herself, she makes me proud every day. You can’t know when you’ll die, Doyoung, but what a shame it would be if you waste your life away worrying about how it will end.”

-

He rang Jaehyun that evening. “Hey.”

“Hey. How’s the family?”

“They’re okay. How are you?”

“Missing you as always.”

And Doyoung, for the first time since he’d met Jaehyun, let himself be honest. “I miss you too.”

There was a pause, and then Jaehyun laughed nervously. “Oh. I mean… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Doyoung swallowed his anxiety, thinking of a handful of weeks ago, one weekend they’d ditched responsibility and gone to the beach together, lounging around and staring at the sun until their eyes stung. “You know when we went to the beach?”

He heard Jaehyun shuffle, maybe correcting his posture or finding a more comfortable position. “Yeah. It was fun, wasn’t it? Maybe we should invite the guys next time.”

“Jaehyun, I always have fun when I’m with you. You make me smile more than anyone or anything else. You make me incredibly happy.”

“Woah woah woah, is this _my_ Doyoung talking about his emotions? What the hell happened?”

“Nothing,” Doyoung said, staring at his childhood ceiling. “But I’m coming home tomorrow, I’m getting the first train back. Can I meet you on campus? I want to talk to you about this face to face.”

He heard Jaehyun’s breath catch. “Talk about what?”

“How I feel about you,” Doyoung whispered. “Jaehyun, I don’t want to say it for the first time over the phone.”

“Oh fuck. Oh shit, okay – okay. Yeah. Tomorrow.” He sounded excited. “Fuck. Is it childish to squeal about this? Can I call Johnny? Can I cry a little with my bros?”

Doyoung felt his lips twitch into a smile. “You can tell whoever you like. Scream as loud as you want, Jae. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Okay, babe. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

-

He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe love at first handshake.

Love at first shitty joke.

Love at first obnoxious brag.

Love at first compliment.

Then later, love at first lunch. First dinner. First kiss, and then first night. First day. First week. First month.

Jaehyun was as stable as they come; solid and warm and the biggest comfort Doyoung had ever known. He was laid back where Doyoung was uptight, calm when Doyoung was worried, soft when Doyoung was sharp, kind when Doyoung was harsh. They laughed so much that Doyoung eventually forgot to be self-conscious. He forgot to feel fear. He forgot anything before Jaehyun, anything before the warmth, the happiness, the rosy fog of it all.

He was climbing off the train when it hit him. He didn’t want to delay anymore.

He called Jaehyun as he sped up his steps towards campus. “Jaehyun?”

“Hey! I’m at the café, are you close?”

“Yeah, not far. I just – I love you. I can say it on the phone, right? When I see you face to face, that will still be the first time. Every time will be the first, won’t it? The first of its kind and the only. I love you – see, that one was different too. Jaehyun, I love you.”

Jaehyun’s voice was soft. “Doyoung… I love you too. I love you too.”

He pressed his lips together and looked at the sun, not sure whether to smile or to cry. “I’m only a couple of minutes away. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Hurry here.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sun was blinding, but he knew Jaehyun’s happiness would be even brighter. He sped up his steps, not yet running, but close.

Life – it felt so close. So within reach, so full of hope.

And then, for the first time in his life, Doyoung forgot to check both ways before crossing. 


End file.
